In the Shadow of the Cypress (19 page)

O
VER THE NEXT TWO MONTHS
Luke became more and more obsessed with his search. He remained diligent in maintaining silence on the subject to everyone, including his girlfriend. He spent every free hour scanning research on the great Chinese admiral Zheng He and his treasure fleet, and this led to finding references to one of his subordinate officers, Admiral Zhou Man, who, according to several qualified references, had sailed north along the coast of the Americas around 1422.

Luke found it impossible to believe that Zhou Man’s giant, ten-masted ships and his many hundreds of sailors never landed to refresh their water supplies, or to hunt and fish to restock their larders. It seemed to Luke that these necessary forays would have required establishing at least temporary settlements to hunt, butcher, and preserve meat, catch and dry fish, gather other available foodstuffs, and perhaps do a little trading with the
native peoples. And though Luke was persuaded that incidental trade must have been established with the few indigenous tribes they encountered, historical evidence to back his supposition would not be found, since the coastal peoples lacked a written language and depended on oral tradition alone.

Without hinting at the evidence in his possession, Luke began to send e-mail inquiries to all the Chinese historical societies in California regarding artifacts that might have been left behind by Zhou Man’s fleet, but again he came up empty. And though many respondents were of the opinion that Zhou Man had indeed explored the western coast of North America, none could point to any evidence that he had left behind as a sign of his visit.

Luke discovered there were stories floating around that a few remnants of a giant sternpost and transom of an ancient ship had been discovered the previous century, buried somewhere along the banks of the Sacramento or American river. However, there was no substantial proof that the ship was even Chinese, and a few supposed experts said it looked Spanish. And since the river and the dredgers had long ago swallowed up the wreckage, it was hardly feasible that such evidence would ever be found.

One of the more interesting books Luke had ordered was authored by a retired British naval officer who made broad but well-founded claims that Zhou Man had indeed visited the West Coast of North America. The author buttressed his theory with quite a few remarkable references, and though the author admitted it was difficult to present solid physical proof that could determine the location of the landfalls with any certainty, there was a most compelling body of zoological and botanical evidence to support the premise.

Luke contacted the author through his e-mail address, and though the gentleman was glad to share all he knew, Luke still found himself strapped with more questions than answers. But even with these hampering details, he was coming to realize that there was a good chance that he was nesting on a sizable historical bombshell. If his discovery was correct, and if Dr. Gilbert’s journal, rubbings, and photographs could stand up to close scientific scrutiny, then Luke was in possession of the only existing substantiation ever found that the author’s hypothesis was correct.

But even that was not quite enough for Luke. He was slowly coming to the question, if such artifacts still existed, and had not been returned to China as Dr. Gilbert presumed they had, then where were they now? The discovery of their whereabouts, if at all possible, would set Luke’s reputation in both the scientific and historical communities. He presumed the success of a master’s or doctoral thesis on the subject would be a foregone conclusion. But for the moment Luke had come up against a blank wall. There was simply no trace anywhere of the existence of such artifacts.

As an afterthought, and without revealing his own evidence, Luke e-mailed several museums on mainland China in the hope that some Chinese scholar might shed light on the subject. In return, he was informed that articles similar to the ones he described were known of, and there were a few examples of marker stones and seals housed in various museums, but nothing that corresponded directly with the items Luke described. The end of one of these communications politely inquired if Mr. Lucas had any personal knowledge that such artifacts actually existed in the West. Luke wrote back and, sticking to the truth as it stood at that moment, said that he did not.

However, Luke had found out something that Dr. Gilbert never suspected. If Zhou Man’s plaque and seal had been returned to the Chinese government around 1907, or soon thereafter, there was no record of it, and assuming that Chinese scholars would be very particular in matters of this kind, Luke could only believe the artifacts had never left California. Either that, or they had been lost due to a shipwreck or some other unforeseen misadventure. But one way or another, Luke would have to do a great deal more research to find the truth, if in fact there was any truth to be found. The trick was to search out the proper resources, but Luke hadn’t a clue where to start looking for them without revealing what he knew, or showing someone his copy of Dr. Gilbert’s evidence.

This suddenly posed another sticky problem: What if someone else at Hopkins decided to look through Dr. Gilbert’s trunk? Luke would have to somehow secure the doctor’s papers against that eventually, and without actually keeping them in his personal possession.

The following day Luke found his way back to the vault under the pretext of doing more sorting. He was relieved to find the trunk still undisturbed beneath the stack of file boxes just where he’d stashed it. He suffered only minor qualms about removing the papers from the vault, since he had every intention of returning the property before word got out about his discoveries. When everyone left for lunch, Luke again removed Dr. Gilbert’s folio and journal from the trunk. He wrapped the items in new paper, packed them in a sturdy corrugated box with tissue paper, and sealed the package with heavy packing tape. He printed out a label addressing the package to himself in care of his grandmother in Watsonville. And after visiting the post office, where he registered and insured the package for a
thousand dollars, he mailed it priority parcel post. That done, Luke called his grandmother on his cell phone and told her to expect a package addressed to him. She was to put it away in the attic until he called for it. Luke’s loving grandmother was more than happy to oblige. Luke had debated with himself whether this might be considered theft, but he knew there was a good chance that someone else might just throw out the old trunk as mere junk, and so he went ahead under the banner of preservation, with every intention of setting the matter right at a later date.

T
HAT
J
UNE
L
UKE GRADUATED FROM
Stanford with top honors. He immediately requested to be enrolled in a master’s program, but only if he could continue his studies at Hopkins. He chose a relatively new area of study, specifically the effects of global warming on deep submarine deposits of carbon dioxide, methane, and other trapped gases. The proximity of the cavernous Monterey marine trench, practically at Luke’s front door, made this a reasonable field of research to accomplish at Hopkins, and so his request was granted. Luke also ferreted out another scholarship, much to the relief of his parents, who were now saddled with Beth’s insistence that she go to Paris for a graduate studies program at the Sorbonne.

After graduation it was an ecstatic young man who returned to Hopkins wreathed in glory. Luke had come to love Monterey more than his own hometown, tourist trade notwithstanding, and he had no desire to leave. Besides, Monterey was where the trail of the Zhou Man artifacts had gone cold, and he instinctively felt that the thread leading back to it lay somewhere nearby.

After graduation Luke was offered a more responsible position at the Monterey Bay Aquarium doing work in the field of ichthyologic diseases unique to aquarium-maintained specimens. His previous experience in water purification and maintenance proved invaluable in this regard. The fact that he also had access to Hopkins’s research laboratory only added to his value in that capacity. He was dedicated to his work and enjoyed it as much as anything he had ever done. But there was that one fixation that haunted him every day regardless of whatever else he was doing: he couldn’t shake free of his abiding passion to find Zhou Man’s plaque and seal, and this obsession would engage more and more of his attention for some time to come.

Rosie still came down to visit every other weekend when her heavy premed schedule permitted. She would not graduate Stanford until the following June, and her choice of a medical school was predicated on her grades. For as long as she could remember, she had wanted to be a doctor like her famous father.

Luke had always supported her in that ambition, and never pressed her to give him more time than she could comfortably spare from her studies. On the other hand, Luke wasn’t exactly wallowing in free time. Between his work at the aquarium, his graduate studies, and his private research, it was all he could do to find time for a little surfing now and then. His enthusiasm for that pleasure had waned slightly since a fatal white shark attack had taken another surfer off Lover’s Point three months earlier. Luke had seen the surfer’s board on the news. The shark had not only cut the surfer almost in half, it had also taken an identical bite out of his board at the same time. From the width of the bites, one of the biologists at the aquarium estimated the shark at sixteen to eighteen feet long. Luke had no desire to make the acquaintance of that particular fish, so he’d hung
up his own board until he could find a safer set of waves farther down the coast.

As far as his Zhou Man research was concerned, Luke had decided that it was time to get the inscription on the marker stone translated. The question remained as to how to accomplish this without either giving away the game or showing his evidence prematurely. To that end, Luke worked up some computer magic. He isolated the Chinese portion of the plaque, which, because it was a rubbing, showed the inscription as white against black, like a photographic negative. He reversed the tones so that the text came out black against white, and then he enlarged and printed the image. After close examination, Luke believed it would be quite impossible for anyone to determine where the text came from, or how it had been executed.

Luke called one of his old Stanford history professors, Dr. Lane, and asked if he could recommend someone who could translate old Chinese texts. He said it was for a paper he was writing. Dr. Lane said he would ask around and get back to him when he had a contact. But he warned Luke not to hold his breath, as real talent in that arena was hardly commonplace.

It was almost a week before Dr. Lane called back with a name. He said that a colleague had recommended one of his star pupils, and as luck would have it, the person in question was working on his second doctoral thesis at Stanford. His name was Dr. Robert Wu, and he was considered a linguistic genius. Dr. Lane said he was told that Dr. Wu could speak, read, and write in nine languages, including Greek and Latin, and that he spoke both Mandarin and Cantonese with equal skill. Dr. Lane gave Luke Dr. Wu’s e-mail address and wished him luck with his paper.

Luke e-mailed Dr. Wu at once, introduced himself, stated his business, and asked for an appointment. Three days later Luke got a response. Dr. Wu wrote that the only time he had marginally free was the following Thursday between two and five in the afternoon. He indicated that he could be found at his office in the language lab. Unfortunately, if that proved inconvenient, Mr. Lucas would have to wait for another six weeks, as Dr. Wu was departing for Taiwan the following morning. Luke wrote back thanking him, and confirming that he would be at the lab promptly at two o’clock on Thursday.

On the appointed day Luke arrived at the lab on campus and asked for Dr. Wu. He was directed back to a tiny office that looked like it had once been a large coat closet. There was a messy pile of books on the desk, many of them left open to marked pages. A leather motorcycle jacket and helmet hung on an old coat rack in the corner, and an open briefcase stuffed with papers sat on the floor beside the desk. But there was no Dr. Wu in sight. Then a voice spoke from behind him and said, “Can I help you find something?”

Luke turned and found he was looking at a fellow who appeared approximately his own age, or perhaps a little older, he couldn’t quite tell. The young man looked as though he might have been Chinese, but Luke couldn’t be certain since the young man was wearing dark glasses and had his black hair tied in a ponytail. He wore crisp tailored jeans, penny loafers sans socks, and a T-shirt that sported the slogan “Will Think For Cold, Hard Cash.”

“Why, yes,” said Luke, “I’m looking for Dr. Wu. I have an appointment.”

The man lifted his dark glasses to the top of his head and smiled. “Well, you’ve found him. What can I do for you?”

Luke smiled. “I’m Charles Lucas. I wrote you last week asking for an appointment.”

“Well, well, so you’re Mr. Lucas.” He smiled again. “Should I address you as Mr. Lucas or Charles?”

“My friends all call me Luke. I hate Charles. My sister calls me Charles when she wants to tick me off.”

Both men laughed and shook hands, and Dr. Wu gestured for Luke to enter the office.

“I hope you’re not claustrophobic. I apologize for the mess, but I have a full plate at the moment. I’m up to my knees in travel nonsense, and I’m still getting ready to leave tomorrow morning. I have a tendency to procrastinate now and then. This time it caught me off my game.” Dr. Wu gestured for Luke to take a seat on an old metal folding chair. He continued. “This isn’t really my office, you understand, I’m just using it while Dr. Heinemann is on sabbatical in Turkey. I don’t know how he handles working here. I know I couldn’t take it for long if I wasn’t so pressed for space at home.” He smiled at a private joke. “So, what can I do for you, Luke?”

Luke reached into his jacket pocket and handed Dr. Wu a folded piece of paper. “Do you think you can translate this for me?” Luke grinned. “Unfortunately, I don’t read Chinese, and I think I need a hand up on this one.”